Crawl around
On high rise jungle gym
of liquid sun
While Feathers and beads dangle
In front of the blue spotlight
Visions of
A billowy red cape
A Charging beast
To the death
Dressed in all the layers of his wardrobe
Crams himself into his duffel
John, still holding his guitar case,
Tosses the bag onto the tour bus
Coming home
Cubby suitcase
Finding gold
The New World
Sailing the Pacific with pirates
Digging for treasures in Egypt
Kissing Lucita in St. Margaret’s
God’s assembly at horizon’s lip
With that
The blue light is angled down
Towards his painted up jeans
Inside a room covered in fancy white
Caked in brass
As he bent over
to clean off
Excess grout from
Ms. Steven’s blue glass tile
And his bicycle traversed the tightrope
And the crowd begins to cheer,
He told her it would be $45.
Grabs his stereo
Blasted Spanish rap music
Takes the subway
Skips to next job downtown.
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